We soon stopped that, for the spirit had all
gone out of Dash. Windham unfastened the rope, and told him to get home,
and if ever I saw a dog run, that one did. Mrs. Windham set great store
by him, and her husband didn't want to kill him. But he said Dash had
got to give up his sheep-killing, if he wanted to live. That cured him.
He's never worried a sheep from that day to this, and if you offer him a
bit of sheep's wool now, he tucks his tail between his legs, and runs
for home. Now, I must stop my talk, for we're in sight of the farm.
Yonder's our boundary line, and there's the house. You'll see a
difference in the trees since you were here before."
We had come to a turn in the road where the ground sloped gently upward.
We turned in at the gate, and drove between rows of trees up to a long,
low, red house, with a veranda all round it. There was a wide lawn in
front, and away on our right were the farm buildings. They too, were
painted red, and there were some trees by them that Mr. Wood called his
windbreak, because they kept the snow from drifting in the winter time.
I thought it was a beautiful place.
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